Free The Tender Years by Janette Oke Page B

thing.
    She struggled to get it over her head and settled into place. When she raised her head, she noted that Jenny was already in her plaid shirt and overalls and was busy trying to get her mop of red hair carefully tucked under the ample brim of a beat-up brown hat. In spite of her confusion, Virginia could not suppress the giggles. Jenny lifted her head, took one look at Virginia, then fell into peals of laughter of her own. They were a sight. At least that much of it was rather fun.
    “Here’s the plan,” Jenny said when they were under control again. “You go first. Stand just toward the house by the poplars. Keep your back to the house. Pace back and forth like you’re waiting for someone. Keep looking toward the trees. After a little bit I will come out, and you will run to meet me. Got it?”
    Virginia nodded. It didn’t sound at all complicated.
    “Here … here’s your hat,” Jenny called quickly as Virginia turned to go. “You forgot to put it on. You want your face to be hidden—all the time. Don’t forget. Don’t let her see who you are. That’s the point of it.”
    Virginia nodded. Maybe it was turning out to be a little bit fun.
    Virginia started off again, her yards of billowy skirts flouncing out about her ankles. The dress was too long, and more than once she tripped over it. She had to use both hands to hold it up out of the way of her feet.
    When she reached the edge of the poplar grove, she made sure that she avoided looking toward the Parker house. Care? fully, her head turned slightly away, she made her way out into the open and dropped the handfuls of skirts. She stood there, the full sun beating down upon her head. For a spring day, it felt dreadfully hot with her layers upon layers of clothing. Then she remembered that she was supposed to be pacing. She began to walk back and forth, pretending to peer into the secret depths of the poplar trees. Two horses, feeding at the other end of the pasture, lifted their heads and stared in curiosity. She heard one snort and then they returned to their feeding again.
    Back and forth, back and forth Virginia paced. She was getting tired of the game and terrible impatient with Jenny. Why didn’t she come? What was she waiting for? Surely by now Mrs. Parker would have gotten out her spyglass—if indeed she had one—and was focused on the spot down in her own pasture.
    As Virginia paced, she got warmer and warmer. Her face flushed beneath the broad-brimmed hat. Her shoulders felt weighted down with the yards of heavy material. Her nose began to tickle from the dust her boots were raising. Why didn’t Jenny come?
    And then there was a rustling from among the branches and out poked Jenny’s brown hat. She looked about stealthily, first checking one way, then the other. Slowly, ever so slowly, she advanced, brushing aside small imaginary bushes, looking, reaching, feeling her way across the short distance, continually turning one way, then the other, as though she were wading through some dense jungle. Virginia was so intent upon watching the strange maneuvers that she totally forgot that she was to rush to meet her.
    “Run!” Jenny hissed. Virginia hiked up her skirts and, fearing she was about to be attacked by some beast or run over by the Parker horses, with one wild look about her, would have headed directly toward the Parker house.
    “No,” squealed Jenny. “To me.”
    Virginia then remembered and changed her course and her actions. With outstretched arms she headed toward Jenny. It was almost her undoing, for she had taken only two steps when she tripped over the hem of the cumbersome skirt. Quickly she reached to jerk the skirt up from the tanglement of her foot, but she heard the sickening sound of tearing cloth as she did so. She did manage to keep herself from going down, but she staggered along for several steps before she totally regained her balance. Jenny did not look amused.
    Virginia plunged into Jenny with such force that both